Shōgun

by James Clavell

  “Thank you, Yuriko-san.” Yabu drank the wine gratefully, enjoying the sweet, harsh rasp as it slid down his parched throat.

  “It went well, I hear.”

  “Yes.”

  “How impertinent of that ronin!”

  “He served me well, Lady, very well. I feel fine now. I’ve blooded Toranaga’s sword and made it really mine.” Yabu finished the cup and she refilled it. His hand fondled his sword hilt. “But you wouldn’t have enjoyed the fight. He was a child—he fell into the first trap.”

  She touched him tenderly. “I’m glad he did, husband.”

  “Thank you, but I hardly got up a sweat.” Yabu laughed. “You should have seen the priest though! It would have made you warm to see that barbarian sweating—I’ve never seen him so angry. He was so angry it almost choked him to hold it in. Cannibal! They’re all cannibals. Pity there’s no way to stamp them out before we depart this earth.”

  “Do you think the Anjin-san could?”

  “He’s going to try. With ten of those ships and ten of him, I could control the seas from here to Kyushu. With only him I could hurt Kiyama, Onoshi, and Harima and smash Jikkyu and keep Izu! We only need a little time and every daimyo’ll be fighting his own special enemy. Izu would be safe and mine again! I don’t understand why Toranaga’s going to let the Anjin-san go. That’s another stupid waste!” He bunched his fist and slammed it on the tatamis. The maid flinched but said nothing. Yuriko did not make the slightest move. A smile flickered across her face.

  “How did the Anjin-san take his freedom, and his vassals?” she asked.

  “He was so happy he was like an old man dreaming he had a four-pronged Yang. He—oh yes …” Yabu frowned, remembering. “But there was one thing I still don’t understand. When those wako first surrounded me I was a dead man. No doubt about it. But the Anjin-san stopped them and gave me back my life. No reason for him to do that, neh? Just before, I’d seen the hate written all over him. So naive to pretend otherwise—as if I’d trust him.”

  “He gave you your life?”

  “Oh yes. Strange, neh?”

  “Yes. Many strange things are going on, husband.” She dismissed the maid, then asked quietly, “What did Toranaga really want?”

  Yabu bent forward and whispered, “I think he wants me to become commander-in-chief.”

  “Why should he do that? Is Iron Fist dying?” Yuriko asked. “What about Lord Sudara? Or Buntaro? Or Lord Noboru?”

  “Who knows, Lady? They’re all out of favor, neh? Toranaga changes his mind so often no one can predict what he’ll do now. First he asked me to go in his place to the wharf and told how he wanted everything said, then he talked about Hiro-matsu, how old he was getting, and asked what I really thought about the Musket Regiment.”

  “Could he be readying Crimson Sky again?”

  “That’s always ready. But he hasn’t got the Fruit for it. That will need leadership and skill. Once he had it, not now. Now he’s a shadow of the Minowara he was. I was shocked at how he looked. So sorry, I made a mistake. I should have gone with Ishido.”

  “I think you chose correctly.”

  “What?”

  “First have your bath, then I think I have a present for you.”

  “What present?”

  “Your brother Mizuno is coming after the evening meal.”

  “That’s a present?” Yabu bristled. “What would I want with that fool?”

  “Special information or wisdom, even from a fool, can be just as valuable as from a counselor, neh? Sometimes more so.”

  “What information?”

  “First your bath. And food. You’ll need a cool head tonight, Yabuchan.”

  Yabu would have pressed her but the bath tempted him, and in truth, he was filled with a pleasing lassitude he had not felt in many a day. Part of it was due to Toranaga’s deference this morning, part to the generals’ deference over the last few days. But most of it was due to the killing, the ripple of joy that had rushed from sword to arm to head. Ah, to kill so cleanly, man to man—in front of men—that’s a joy given to so few, so rarely. Rare enough to be appreciated and savored.

  So he left his wife and relaxed further into his joy. He allowed hands to tend his body and then, refreshed and renewed, he went to a veranda room. The last rays of sunset bedecked the sky. The moon was low, crescent, and thin. One of his personal maids served his evening meal delicately. He ate sparingly and in silence. A little soup and fish and pickled vegetables.

  The girl smiled invitingly. “Shall I turn down the futons now, Sire?”

  Yabu shook his head. “Later. First tell my wife I wish to see her.”

  Yuriko arrived, wearing a neat but old kimono.

  “So desu ka?”

  “Your brother’s waiting. We should see him alone. See him first, Sire, then we’ll talk, you and I—also alone. Please be patient, neh?”

  Kasigi Mizuno, Yabu’s younger brother and Omi’s father, was a small man with bulbous eyes, high forehead, and thin hair. His swords did not seem to suit him and he could barely handle them. Even with bow and arrow he was not much better.

  Mizuno bowed and complimented Yabu on his skill this afternoon, for the news of the exploit had quickly spread around the castle, further enhancing Yabu’s reputation as a fighter. Then, anxious to please, he came to the point. “I received a coded letter today from my son, Sire. The Lady Yuriko thought I’d better give it to you personally.” He handed the scroll to Yabu, with the decoding. The message from Omi read: “Father, please tell Lord Yabu quickly and privately: first Lord Buntaro came to Mishima, secretly via Takato. One of his men let this slip during a drunken evening that I’d arranged in their honor. Second: During this secret visit at Takato, which lasted three days, Buntaro saw Lord Zataki twice and the Lady, Zataki’s mother, three times. Third: Before Lord Hiro-matsu left Mishima he told his new consort, the Lady Oko, not to worry because ‘while I’m alive Lord Toranaga will never leave the Kwanto.’ Fourth: that …”

  Yabu looked up. “How can Omi-san possibly know what Iron Fist said privately to his consort? We don’t have spies in his house.”

  “We have now, Sire. Please read on.”

  “Fourth: that Hiro-matsu is resolved to commit treason, if necessary, and will confine Toranaga in Yedo, if necessary, and will order Crimson Sky over Toranaga’s refusal with or without Lord Sudara’s assent, if necessary. Fifth: that these are truths that can be believed. Lady Oko’s personal maid is the daughter of my wife’s foster mother and was introduced into the Lady Oko’s service here at Mishima when, regrettably, her own maid curiously acquired a wasting malaise. Sixth: Buntaro-san is like a madman, brooding and angry—today he challenged and slaughtered a samurai purposelessly, cursing the name of the Anjin-san. Last: Spies report that Ikawa Jikkyu has massed ten thousand men in Suruga, ready to sweep across our borders. Please give Lord Yabu my greetings….” The rest of the message was inconsequential.

  “Jikkyu, eh! Must I go to my death with that devil unrevenged!”

  “Please be patient, Sire,” Yuriko said. “Tell him, Mizuno-san.”

  “Sire,” the little man began. “For months we’ve tried to put your plan into effect, the one you suggested when the barbarian first arrived. You remember, with all those silver coins, you mentioned that a hundred or even five hundred in the hands of the right cook would eliminate Ikawa Jikkyu once and for all.” Mizuno’s eyes seemed to grow even more froglike. “It seems that Mura, headman of Anjiro, has a cousin who has a cousin whose brother now is the best cook in Suruga. I heard today he’s been accepted into Jikkyu’s household. He’s been given two hundred on account and the whole price is five nun—”

  “We haven’t got that money! Impossible! How can I raise five hundred—I’m so in debt now I can’t even raise one hundred!”

  “Please excuse me, Sire. So sorry, but the money’s already set aside. Not all the barbarian coins remained in the strongbox. A thousand coins strayed before it was officially counted.
So sorry.”

  Yabu gawked at him. “How?”

  “It seems Omi-san was ordered to do that in your name. The money was brought here secretly to the Lady Yuriko, from whom permission was asked and granted before risking your displeasure.”

  Yabu thought about that a long time. “Who ordered it?”

  “I did. After seeking permission.”

  “Thank you, Mizuno-san. And thank you, Yuriko-san.” Yabu bowed to both. “So! Jikkyu, eh? At long last!” He clapped his brother warmly on the shoulder and the smaller man was almost pathetic in his fawning pleasure. “You did very well, brother. I’ll send you some bolts of silk from the treasury. How is the lady, your wife?”

  “Well, Sire, very well. She asked you to accept her best wishes.”

  “We must have food together. Good—good. Now about the rest of the report—what are your views?”

  “Nothing, Sire. I would be most interested in what you think it means.”

  “First—” Yabu stopped as he caught his wife’s look, cautioning him, and changed what he was going to say, “First and last, it means that Omi-san, your son, is loyal and an excellent vassal. If I had control of the future I’d promote him—yes, he deserves promotion, neh?”

  Mizuno was unctuously delighted. Yabu was patient with him, chatting with him, again complimenting him and, as soon as was polite, he dismissed him.

  Yuriko sent for cha. When they were quite alone again he said, “What does the rest mean?”

  Her face mirrored her excitement now, “Please excuse me, Sire, but I want to give you a new idea: Toranaga is playing us all for fools and has no intention, and never had any intention, of going to Osaka to surrender.”

  “Nonsense!”

  “Let me give you facts…. Oh, Sire, you don’t know how fortunate you are in your vassal Omi and that stupid brother who stole a thousand coins. Proof of my theory could be as follows: Buntaro-san, a trusted intimate, is sent to Zataki secretly. Why? Obviously to carry a new offer. What would tempt Zataki? The Kwanto—only that. So the offer is the Kwanto—in return for allegiance, once Toranaga is again President of the Council of Regents—a new one with the new mandate. He can afford to give it then, neh?” She waited, then went on painstakingly. “If he persuades Zataki to betray Ishido, he’s a quarter of the way to the capital, Kyoto. How can the pact with his brother be cemented? Hostages! I heard this afternoon Lord Sudara, the Lady Genjiko, and their daughters and their son are going to visit their revered grandmother at Takato within ten days.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes. Next Toranaga gives the Anjin-san back his ship, as good as new, with all the cannon and powder, two hundred fanatics and all that money, surely enough to buy more barbarian mercenaries, wako scum out of Nagasaki. Why? To allow him to attack and take the Black Ship of the barbarians. No Black Ship, no money, and immense trouble for the Christian priests who control Kiyama, Onoshi, and all traitorous Christian daimyos.”

  “Toranaga’d never dare to do that! The Taikō tried and failed and he was all powerful. The barbarians will sail away in fury. We’ll never trade again.”

  “Yes. If we did it. But this time it’s barbarian against barbarian, neh? It’s nothing to do with us. And say the Anjin-san attacks Nagasaki and puts it to the torch—isn’t Harima now hostile, and Kiyama and Onoshi, and, because of them, most Kyushu daimyos? Say the Anjin-san burns a few of their other ports, harries their shipping, and at the same time—”

  “And at the same time Toranaga launches Crimson Sky!” Yabu exploded.

  “Yes. Oh yes,” Yuriko agreed happily. “Doesn’t this explain Toranaga? Doesn’t this intrigue fit him like a skin? Isn’t he doing what he’s always done, just waiting like always, playing for time like always, a day here a day there and soon a month has passed and again he has an overwhelming force to sweep all opposition aside? He’s gained almost a month since Zataki brought the summons to Yokosé.”

  Yabu could feel his pulse roaring in his ears. “Then we’re safe?”

  “No, but we’re not lost. I believe it’s no surrender.” She hesitated. “But everyone was deceived. Oh, he’s so clever, neh? Everyone fooled like us. Until tonight. Omi gave me the clues. We all forgot Toranaga is a great Nōh actor who can wear his own face as a mask if need be. Neh?”

  Yabu tried to marshal his thoughts but could not. “But Ishido still has all Japan against us!”

  “Yes. Less Zataki. And there must be other secret alliances. Toranaga and you can hold the passes until the time.”

  “Ishido has Osaka Castle and the Heir and the Taikō’s wealth.”

  “Yes. But he’ll stay skulking inside. Someone will betray him.”

  “What should I do?”

  “The opposite to Toranaga. Let him do the waiting, you must force the pace.”

  “How?”

  “The first thing, Sire, is this: Toranaga’s forgotten the one thing you noticed this afternoon. The Tsukku-san’s total fury. Why? Because the Anjin-san threatens the Christian future, neh? So you’ve got to put the Anjin-san under your protection at once, because those priests or their puppets will murder him within hours. Next: The Anjin-san needs you to protect and guide him, to help him get his new crew at Nagasaki. Without you and your men he has to fail. Without him and his ship and his cannon and more barbarians, Nagasaki won’t burn, and that must happen or Kiyama, Onoshi, and Harima and the filthy priests won’t be distracted enough to temporarily withdraw their support from Ishido. Meanwhile, Toranaga, now miraculously supported by Zataki and his fanatics, with you leading the Musket Regiment, sweeps through the Shinano passes down to the Kyota plains.”

  “Yes. Yes, you are right, Yuriko-chan! It has to be that way. Oh, you are so clever, so wise!”

  “Wisdom and Luck are no good without the means to put a plan into effect, Sire. You alone can do that—you’re the leader, the fighter, the battle-general that Toranaga must have. You must see him tonight.”

  “I can’t go to Toranaga and tell him I’ve seen through his ruse, neh?”

  “No, but you’ll beg him to allow you to go with the Anjin-san, that you must leave at once. We can think of a plausible reason.”

  “But if the Anjin-san attacks Nagasaki and the Black Ship, won’t they stop trading and sail away?”

  “Yes. Possibly. But that’s next year. By next year Toranaga will be a Regent, President of the Regents. And you his commander-in-chief.”

  Yabu came down from the clouds. “No,” he said firmly. “Once he has power he’ll order me to commit seppuku.”

  “Long before that you will have the Kwanto.”

  His eyes blinked. “How?”

  “Toranaga will never actually give his half brother the Kwanto. Zataki’s a perpetual threat. Zataki’s a wild man, pride-filled, neh? It will be so easy for Toranaga to maneuver Zataki into begging for the foremost place in the battle. If Zataki doesn’t get killed … perhaps a stray bullet or arrow? Probably a bullet. You must lead the Musket Regiment in the battle, Sire.”

  “Why shouldn’t I receive a stray bullet equally?”

  “You may, Sire. But you’re not Toranaga’s kinsman and therefore no threat to his power. You will become his most devoted vassal. He needs fighting generals. You’ll earn the Kwanto, and that should be your only goal. He’ll give it to you when Ishido’s betrayed because he’ll take Osaka for himself.”

  “Vassal? But you said to wait and soon I’d nev—”

  “Now I counsel you to support him with all your strength. Not to follow his orders blindly like old Iron Fist, but cleverly. Don’t forget, Yabu-chan, during battle, as in any battle, soldiers make mistakes, stray bullets do happen. So long as you lead the Regiment, you can choose, too—any time, neh?”

  “Yes,” he said, awed by her.

  “Remember, Toranaga’s worth following. He’s Minowara, Ishido’s a peasant. Ishido’s the fool. I can see that now. Ishido should be hammering at the gates of Odawara right now, rain or no rains. Didn’t Omi-san say
that months ago too? Isn’t Odawara undermanned? Isn’t Toranaga isolated?”

  Yabu pounded his fist on the floor with delight. “Then it’s war after all! How clever you are to have seen through him! Ah, so he’s been playing the fox all the time, neh?”

  “Yes,” she said, greatly satisfied.

  Mariko had come to the same astonishing conclusion, though not from all the same facts. Toranaga must be pretending, playing a secret game, she reasoned. That’s the only possible explanation for his incredible conduct—giving the Anjin-san the ship, the money, all the cannon, and freedom in front of Tsukku-san. Now the Anjin-san will absolutely go against the Black Ship. He will take it, and threaten the one next year, and therefore he’ll maul the Holy Church terribly and force the Holy Fathers to compel Kiyama and Onoshi to betray Ishido….

  But why? If that’s true, she thought, perplexed, and Toranaga’s considering such a long-range plan, then of course he can’t go to Osaka and bow before Ishido, neh? He must…. Ah! What about today’s delay that Hiro-matsu persuaded Toranaga to make? Oh, Madonna on high, Toranaga never intended to surrender! It’s all a trick.

  Why? To gain time.

  To accomplish what? To wait and weave a thousand more tricks, and it doesn’t matter what, only that Toranaga’s once more what he always was, the almighty puppeteer.

  How long before Ishido’s impatience shatters and he raises the battle standard and moves against us? One month—at the most two. No more. So by the ninth month of this Fifth Year of Keichō, the battle for the Kwanto begins!

  But what’s Toranaga gained in two months? I don’t know—I only know that now my son has a chance to inherit his ten thousand koku, and to live and breed, and that now perhaps my father’s line will not perish from the earth.

  She relished her newfound knowledge, toying with it, examining it, finding her logic flawless. But what to do between now and then? she asked herself. Nothing more than you’ve already done—and decided to do. Neh?

  “Mistress?”

  “Yes, Chimmoko?”

  “Gyoko-san is here. She has an appointment, she says.”